Take My Hand
by Quirke
Summary: Without warning, the girl looked up to meet Hibernius' eyes, and he had a sudden, extreme urge to probe further into her past. MR.TALL X OC.
1. Prolouge

"I'm sorry" she choked, tears streaming down her now bright red cheeks "I'm so sorry, it wasn't supposed to mean anything..."

He turned away, leaving her to weep in his shadow.

"Listen to me! Please," she cried, a disgraceful heap on the floor, clutching at her hair and clawing at herself "It wasn't mean't to be like that, I swear, I love you; I always have."

She looked him in the eye as he turned around to look blankly down at her "You know that I love you. But I don't think that you have ever loved me in return. Have you?"

He didn't reply, just continued to watch her distraught face, the pain that flitted inside her eyes.

"Have you, Hibernius?"


	2. Chapter One

**MR.TALL**

_**12 years previously**_

It was late. Very late. And Hibernius Tall had a show to sell.

He strode through the damp streets of London, a wad of tickets in one hand and a pouch of money in the other. The show wasn't due to start until the following week, but since he was short of crew it was best that he sold the remaining tickets as fast as possible.

Since the Cirque Du Freak always sold out, money was hardly ever an issue. All of the money that the Cirque earned was used, of course, to make the performers lives as pleasant as possible; and everything had been going as smoothly as ever. Until two nights ago.

Hibernius had been calculating how much money should be spent on food that week. Since not as many tickets had been sold in their current area, Hibernius had been forced to break into his own personal stash of foreign jewels, that he had picked up on his travels, when he was young. Cormac Limbs had rushed suddenlyinto the van in a fluster, announcing that the Wolfman had started to become enraged, and was trying to bite through his chains again. Hibernius had swiftly left to deal with the situation, leaving the bag of jewels out on his desk. He was not concerned about losing them, and leaving the door wide open; he had no reason to distrust his cirque performers. His friends.

When he eventually returned, he sensed that something was missing in the room. He walked over to his desk, and as he picked up the money bag felt his heart leap.

The bag was as light as a feather.

He ground his teeth together just thinking about it. He knew it was not any of his performers who had taken it, that was for sure. It simply angered him that somebody would steal from not just one person, but from many. The loss of that money would mean that every single member of the Cirque Du Freak would have to go without certain essentials, and live on far less pleasant food.

Hibernius turned a corner into a dark, deserted alleyway, when something caught his eye, or rather, something caught his mind. It was a human girl's thoughts, echoing gently over to him, almost beckoning. He peered around into the eternal gloom of the alley, squinting into the rain. He found her, of course - nothing could defy his vision - and after taking just one quick glance at her, he knew her whole life story. She was sixteen years old, almost seventeen. Her name was Sarah George, but she didn't like anyone knowing her name. She never knew her father, and had been brought up in several places with her mother, and occasionaly her mother's boyfriend. Life wasn't ever good, and when she was just fifteen she ran away from home. The only place she had left for her was the streets. She had tried and failed to get a respectable job, pretending that she was older than she was. And she did look it, but nobody in their right mind would employ a smelly, dirty homeless girl when there were so many other people to chose from.

Hibernius carried on walking, a frown creasing his forehead as the details of the rest of her life flooded into his head. She was so young, yet had been through so many things which most adults had not. He found himself craning his neck to look back at her, huddled into a deep doorway, a thin blanket covering her head. She must be cold. Her eyes peeked out slightly from underneath the damp folds of material, suspiciously watching him, an edge of fear playing against the blue. For her eyes, they were a bright shocking shade of blue, and it was if they were casting light on that dark night. But, there was something about them that did not seem human. They were so _empty _and blank. It was as if all the life had been drawn out of them, and the person inside wasn't even alive, merely just _there._

Without warning, the girl suddenly looked up to meet Hibernius' eyes, and he had a sudden, extreme urge to probe further into this girls past; he succeeded, and so the dark night surrounding him was replaced by a brightly lit field...

The girl. The very same girl infront of him, anxiously looking around a familiar campsite. She moved cautiously up to a nearby van. It was the same as the others, but she knew who it belonged to. Holding her breath and hoping that the door was not locked, she turned the knob and let herself in. The van was empty, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes darted about the room, quickly trying to determine what to take. They fell upon a desk, crowded with pieces of paper, pens and books. A big old fashioned swagbag sat in the middle of all of the clutter, and she greedily ran over to open it.

Sparkling jewels. Lots of them.

She almost smiled. But she never smiled, so she emptied the contents of the heavy bag into her pocket and made her way back through the van, and back to what she classed as home.

A ringing in his ears, and Hibernius was back to being in the cold, damp London alleyway. He touched his forehead lightly - he often experienced visions, but this one had taken him by surprise. He had not been anticipating looking through her thoughts and memories; but now, of course, it was obvious why he had felt a strange premonition, almost an instinct for information. This homeless girl in front of him was perhaps not as helpless as she looked; underneath that blanket lay the Cirque's jewels.

She was still watching him, her eyes blankly flicking from left to right, then at him. And again. She was obviously very nervous. Hibernius bent down so that he was looking her dead in the eye. She pressed herself a little further back against the wall, and clutched her thin blanket tighter around her. There was still no emotion in her eyes.

"Sarah," Hibernius spoke softly, and yet she heard him as if he had shouted. "Would you like to tell me what you have underneath your blanket?"

The girl flinched, and her hand shot to a bump underneath the blanket. It made a clinking metal noise, like two coins being rubbed together..

She scowled, and drew her hands up to her chest, protecting the only thing that she had in the world.

Hibernius raised an eyebrow.

"Sarah, I need to feed my performers. What you are currently in possesion of does not only belong to me, but to many others. If you do not give me what you have back, then they will go hungry."

"And what if_ I _go hungry?" she spat, her eyes aflame "Nobody cares what happens to me, do they?"

"Do not assume that."

"What do you know!?" Sarah snapped, glaring fiercley at the tall man in the red hat that was kneeling in front of her "You don't know _anything_! Why are you talking to me? You don't who I am, or-"

"Your name is Sarah George, but you hate your name. You are sixteen years old, and your seventeenth birthday is in two weeks time. You ran away from home because your mothers boyfriend did unspeakable things, right now you have nowhere else to go, nobody to turn to - "

Sarah's empty blue eyes had shot wide open. The expression was comical, but Hibernius did not laugh. She appeared genuinely scared.

"Get away from me, you pervert!" she shrieked, jumping up and throwing her blanket off of her. She was wearing a pair of grimy torn jeans and a hooded jacket, both of which were absolutely covered in dirt. "You...you..you STALKER. Here, have the god damn jewels, whatever they are! Just don't come near me ever again, or I'll call the police!"

And with that, Sarah paused, picked up the blanket that she had threw onto the ground, and ran off into the night.


	3. Chapter Two

**SARAH**

Her body was feeling heavier by the minute, her head fit to explode. Why did she always do this to herself? Every single time.

"Thank a lot, darlin'," he huffed, pulling away from her. She didn't move, just squeezed her eyes tighter than tight, causing purple and red lights to dance in the solitary blackness. A small, metallic clink of coins caused a different part of her to smile - and then she return to the present.

She waited, straining her ears as she heard him re-button his jeans, and retreat away from the grimy alley that she lay in, exposed on the floor. When she was certain that he was gone, she allowed herself to just.. let go. The tears that she had been holding in for the past hour, day, week, month.. year, all came tumbling out, spilling down her pale cheek until she could taste salt on her tongue. Remaining this way for just a while each day felt good; a few moments to completely let go, to allow herself to be aware of the fact that she was so very alone. Of course, she couldn't be like this constantly - everyone knew what happened to the ones who had given up.

Sarah George sniffed, regaining control over herself. The tears were drawing to a close, as was the dark night that had been looming around of her. Her blanket, damp and moulded through endless rainy nights on the streets, lay strewn at her feet - she shivered, ill at ease with just remembering what had happened an hour or so ago on that piece of sodden material. But she couldn't afford to be fussy, or even take note of her emotions - when it came to things such as food, warmth and shelter, Sarah would take whatever was offered. There was no place on the streets for high standards.

Sarah bent down, pulling the rank blanket around her shoulders. Her hair clung in horrible rags around her shoulders; she swiped angrily at it when it fell in front of her eyes, clouding her vision as she began to walk dejectedly down the cobbled street. Her feet stung a little with every step, the flimsy shoes that she had salvaged from a nearby tip wearing old. Sarah's body was covered in bruises - when a person goes to sleep at night, they toss and turn in their comfortable, warm bed, and wake up in the same physical state that they had gone to sleep in. On a hard, cold street pavement, it is much easier to acquire injuries. Sighing a little as a particularly sensitive bruise on her arm began to throb, Sarah turn the street corner, passing into another dark alley. The night was old; she expected to see a few streaks of navy in the sky soon, setting the way for the sun.

A small yawn escaped the grimy, homeless girl's lips half a second before she walked straight into a person that had not, to her knowledge, been standing in front of her when she had last looked. Sarah felt a small gasp of surprise escape her mouth upon the unanticipated contact - feeling the air move around her, she waited for her body to feel pain once again as it hit the floor. Her eyes squinted, and she waited. And waited.

Nothing.

Releasing the muscles around her eyes, she stared up ahead of her. While her feet were no longer upon the ground, she had reason to be concerned. A pair of black eyes looked curiously back at her, and she jumped violently. It was.. it was _that man. _

"Hello," he smiled warmly down at her. "Do not worry, Sarah. I've caught you."


End file.
